“Ouch.” Lucas put a hand over his heart. “But, still, good to hear you’ve finagled a friend. Who is this best man?”
“Jerry from high school.”
“That nerd?” Lucas threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s probably for the best. He’s more your speed.”
“Look, this isn’t right. You can’t just barrel back into town and…” He took a deep breath. “I’m calling Mom,” Jacob said, standing up suddenly. “I suggest you do it yourself, actually.”
“No,” Lucas said. “I’m going to sit here and eat my eggs. You go whining to Mom like always if you like. Ruin my surprise.”
“Surprises are supposed to be pleasant. This will be a shock,” Jacob said and strode outside.
Nora, who had just walked up with coffee and eggs, looked at his retreating back in surprise.
“Typical.” Lucas rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind him, Grace. He’s a bit straitlaced. Well, you know that already, I suppose. As for me, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. After all, soon enough we’re gonna be brother and sister!”
*****
Chapter 4
A Thanksgiving Party
Nora hovered over the stove, peeking to see if the potatoes were done yet. Behind her, Harvey was poring over a newspaper and occasionally snorting as he read the predictions for the upcoming football game. “Both teams are incredibly strong this season,” Harvey said, without looking up at her. “But that new quarterback for—”
“Harv, you’re not going to be stuck to the TV all day, are you? You need to mix with the Giordanos, too.”
“And I will…because I’m sure they’ll all be glued to the TV along with me. At least the men will.” Harvey checked his watch. “Speaking of which, should we get going soon?”
Nora gave him a look. “My mashed potatoes are going to take another hour at least.”
“You’re making enough to feed half of Wyoming.” Harvey smiled.
“Well, there’s going to be a lot of people at the house. I want to make a good impression.”
“You’re more nervous than Grace.” Harvey laughed. “Don’t stress.”
Nora shook her head. “You’re so dense sometimes, Harvey. Marriage isn’t just about two people coming together. It’s two families. Do you realize that family feuds are one of the biggest reasons for broken marriages in this country?”
“Are you sure about that? I thought it was money,” Harvey said. “Especially these days.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “I said one of the reasons. Anyway, we have got to become friends with these people. That’s my point.”
“Is that why you cancelled our original Thanksgiving plans?” Harvey asked. “Hazel was more than a little disappointed, you know. She wanted us to be in Laramie for Amber’s concert.”
“I know. But there will be other concerts, dear,” Nora said. “Hazel understands.”
Harvey shrugged. “If you say so.”
Taking the potatoes off the stove, Nora drained them in the sink. Harvey sprang up and took them away from her. “I’ll help,” he said, and started mashing the boiled potatoes.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Nora kissed him on the cheek, realizing she wasn’t dreaming. Turning back to the stove, she began to mix the butter and milk, heating them gently until a rich mixture had formed.
“What’s the secret ingredient this time?” Harvey asked as Nora mixed the butter sauce and sour cream into the potatoes along with salt and pepper.
“Absolutely nothing,” Nora said. “Grace loves her mashed potatoes the way you love your cars: classic only.”
Harvey grinned. “What? No jalapeños? No cheddar? No random but delicious topping like pineapple? You’re losing your touch, lady.”
“Ok, I lied,” Nora admitted. “I’m making two batches. One classic, the other with oven roasted garlic and olive oil.”
“Mmm.” Harvey licked his lips. “I should punch some extra holes in my belt. I’ll need them after all this food.”
*****
The Giordano home was nearly an hour away in town of Greenfield. The drive up was easy, with clear roads save for the occasional truck whizzing by. The large canvas bag containing Tupperware containers filled with mashed potatoes was safely tucked under a seatbelt on the backseat and Nora, exhausted from the cooking, leaned her head against the window as Harvey drove.
Unlike Milburn, Greenfield wasn’t a very prosperous town. They drove in on a road with old, faded billboards urging them to buy Coca-Cola or to fuel up at one of the several long-abandoned gas stations en route. On the sides of the road were houses that hadn’t been painted in a long while, some with cracked windows and overgrown yards — a sight that would cause raised eyebrows in Milburn. Still, Nora noticed the families hanging around in backyards, playing football or just watching the world go by. Young pre-teens were riding bicycles along the sidewalk, stopping to stare as the big black BMW SUV passed by them. Maybe Greenfield wasn’t very rich, but it seemed a happy enough place, anyway.
The Giordano home was a bit off the main street and a stark contrast to the other houses. It was a gigantic, white house with pillars supporting a massive front porch and a large iron fence closing it off from intruders. The latticed iron gates were wide open, however, and all sorts of cars were parked in a jumble in the huge, circular driveway. The cars spilled out to the sides of the road, too, parked bumper to bumper. Nora frowned. It was really a curious mixture of cars — from a beautifully maintained Porsche 911 to various battered Toyotas, souped-up Hondas and beat-up Fords.
Harvey frowned, too, as he tried to figure out a place to park.
“Interesting crowd,” he said.
“I thought there were only going to be a dozen or so of us,” Nora considered, feeling suddenly nervous. “This looks like a lot more! There must be at least a hundred people in there, judging by the number of cars!”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Harvey said.
“And that music!” Nora exclaimed, as a sudden blast hit their ears. It sounded like screwdrivers being smooshed in a high-speed blender. Unpleasant, to say the least.
Confused, Harvey and Nora approached the front door, their arms loaded with mashed potatoes. It flew open and two men with neon mohawks stepped out, one pink and one green, laughing and handing each other hand-rolled cigarettes. For a minute, the punks looked a little startled at seeing the staid, middle-aged couple in front of them. But, before either Harvey or Nora could say a word, the two men walked off into the yard, completely ignoring the new arrivals.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” Nora asked weakly, peeking into the house. Through the front doors, she could see the living room, which had a giant spiral staircase in one corner. The house was packed with people. The shades were drawn and, in the corner under the spiral staircase, a DJ in a pair of over-sized headphones was bobbing his head to the beat. Young men and women were littered around the room. Some sat on the stairs smoking, others danced or talked loudly over the music with their feet thrown up on the furniture. Yet none of these people were familiar to Nora or, for that matter, looked like they belonged. Nora could tell that the house was tastefully furnished, with lavender-colored wallpaper, a wooden fireplace, and mid-century modern furniture standing beneath framed prints of Van Gogh and Monet. In the center of the room, a man began breakdancing and the crowd whooped and cheered him on.
“I’m calling Jacob to find out what’s happening,” Harvey said.
There was no need. Jacob came storming down the stairs, his face red and his fists clenched. Immediately, he walked to the fireplace where Nora recognized Lucas, his hair slicked back and each of his arms around a different girl. Lowering his face so that his forehead was nearly pressed against Lucas’, Jacob began saying something to him, his features contorted with anger. There was a clatter of feet as Grace came rushing down the stairs, too. Nora and Harvey looked at each other and, without a word, pushed through the crowd toward the fireplace.
“You’re such a spoilsport, brother!” Lucas was saying. “Just chill out and enjoy the party.”
“The police are going to be here in ten minutes,” Jacob said, “and I—”
“STOP. THE. MUSIC!” a voice bellowed from the stairs. “NOW!”
*****
Chapter 5
The Uncle’s Wrath
“Stop the music!” the voice repeated.
Everyone froze and heads swiveled towards the man who was calmly walking down the stairs. Dressed in a pale grey suit, the man had a head of white hair and a curiously unlined face. His sharp, blue eyes were pinned on Lucas and contempt stood clear on his face. Just as clear was the change in Lucas, from teasing and confident, he now looked furious.
“You are all trespassing,” the man in the suit declared. “The police are on their way and you will be arrested. Get out while you can.”
Like water gushing from a hole in a bucket, a stream of people began to exit through the front door, some with cans of beer still in their hands. Weakly, Lucas tried to protest and stop some of them, to no avail.
“And you…” The man in the suit walked to Lucas. “You’re not a child anymore, but I’ve a good mind to give you a spanking.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Lucas rolled up his sleeves. “You’re right that I am not a child anymore. I can take you with one hand.”
“I’d like to see you try,” the man snorted dismissively. “You think going to the gym six days a week is going to help you in a fight? I’ve been to Vietnam, son. I don’t fight clean. You’ll be on the floor wondering why you can’t feel your legs in two seconds.”
“Hey, look. Uncle Finley, Lucas, let’s calm down.” Jacob stepped between the two. “Let’s just take a breath now—”
“You’re still the same irresponsible loser you always were,” the man continued, pointing a bony finger at Lucas. “Do you have any idea how you’ve made your mother feel? Today was important to her. This was supposed to be a quiet family affair!”
“Family affair? Don’t make me laugh. My dad would be rolling over in his grave if he knew you moved in on Mom the way you have!” Lucas yelled. “This is my Dad’s home, dirtbag! Not yours.! I should be the one calling the police on you!”
“I’m your uncle, boy, and you’d better be respectful—”
“Maybe I’m a loser, but at least I don’t live off a woman’s money!” Lucas shot back. “Or is that what you think real men do? How much did my mom pay for that fancy Porsche of yours? Or didn’t you think I’d notice?”
“Ok, that’s enough.” Jacob grabbed Lucas by the shoulder and dragged him away. When the older man tried to follow, Harvey put a hand on his chest and shook his head.
Outside, Nora could hear honks and yells as cars backed out of the clogged driveway. Behind it all, she thought she could also hear the vague sound of sirens. Jacob and Harvey had taken Lucas and his uncle off into opposite corners of the room, and just in time, too. Nora had an instinct that in a few more seconds, punches would have been flying.
Grace stood in the center of the living room, looking uncertainly from Harvey to Jacob. Nora put her hand in her daughter’s palm and gave it a squeeze. “I think it’s fine now,” she said.
“It isn’t fine.” Grace sighed. “I don’t know how any of this happened. Jacob’s mom is distraught. She’s hiding out in her room upstairs. This is so horribly awkward.”
“What happened?”
“Well, Jacob and I only got here an hour ago,” Grace explained. “The party was in full swing even then. All Lucas’ doing, of course. Lucas has been staying here at his mom’s house, as you know. Apparently Uncle Finley came over early and he and Viola have been…” Grace shook her head. “Well, it’s nobody’s business if they date each other, really. It’s been a while now since Jacob’s father passed. But…you can imagine neither Lucas nor Jacob are too happy about it.”
“What does that have to do with the party?” Nora asked.
“Lucas threw it to irritate Finley, as far as I can tell,” Grace said. “Worked, didn’t it? Like a charm.”
“Ah.” Nora saw the light now. She threw a glance over at Lucas. Jacob had a hand on each of his shoulders and was saying something to him quietly. In the other corner of the room, Harvey had his poker face on as their Uncle Finley gesticulated wildly.
They heard sirens as a police car pulled up. Grace sighed. “Look, Mom, let Dad and Jacob handle the cops, ok? Let’s you and I go up and talk to the others.”
“Actually…” Nora pointed to the corner, where she’d placed the bag of mashed potatoes. “Let’s go to the kitchen, shall we? I need to get those in the fridge.”
“Oh! The turkey!” Grace gave a horrified squeak. “Viola told me to take it out of the oven! Oh, Mom, I totally forgot!”
*****
Chapter 6
The Tale Of The Turkey
“It’s probably ruined by now!” Grace fretted. “I can’t believe I forgot. There was just so much noise and confusion!”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s not ruined.” Nora rushed into the kitchen with Grace behind her. They both paused in the doorway and looked at each other, shaking their head. The kitchen was an inglorious mess, thanks to the party. Dishes were piled up in the sink and along the counters with half-eaten food on them. Open cans of soda and beer were on every imaginable surface and a few cans lay crushed on the floor. The garbage was overflowing and cigarette butts filled a flower pot. In the center of all this mess, stood a sleek, black ove, with smoke billowing from one corner.
“Nooo,” Grace groaned.
Nora, who had seen her fair share of disasters in the kitchen, rolled her shoulders and got to work. First, she cleared some space on the counter, wiping it down quickly with some wipes from her purse. Then, she took the turkey out of the oven and surveyed the damage.
It was a beautiful twenty pound turkey resting on a bed of slightly scorched carrots and onions. Luckily, the turkey itself was only a little overdone. Nothing some extra gravy couldn’t cover up.
“Alright, Grace. Let’s do this, shall we?” Nora rubbed her hands together.
“Mom, we should get back out there. See how things are with the guys.”
Nora shook her head. “Trust your father and Jacob to handle that. As far as I can see, they’re doing a good job. As for me, I think the best thing we could do is clean up the kitchen as fast as possible so the family can have a nice meal together once all the drama has died down.”
“You think so?” Grace was uncertain.
“I know so,” Nora said. “Right now, things are chaotic. The best we can do is restore order to the little things. Trust me, it will add up and make a difference.”
“Ok.” Grace still looked unsure, but she was game. “Can I help?”
“Get started on the dishes.” Nora pointed to the sink. “As for me, I’m going to try and get some moistness back into this dry turkey here.”
Grace shook her head. “That’s impossible, Mom.”
“Ah, I’ve ruined my share of Thanksgiving dinners as a youngun.” Nora grinned. “This is a little trick I learned from a chef in New York — you pour some broth on the turkey and pop it back in the oven at 250 degrees for 10 minutes. Makes a world of a difference.”
From outside, they heard mostly low conversation interspersed with the occasional obstinate “I’m still not sorry!” from Lucas. The cops were there and Nora assumed Harvey would smooth things out eventually, even if it did take some time.
With the turkey in the oven and Grace attacking the dishes in the sink, Nora began cleaning up the discarded cans.
Half an hour later, when the cops had gone and Jacob finally came into the kitchen, a blonde girl was trailing behind him. Grace was just setting the table. The kitchen wasn’t quite spotless, but it was far from the mess it had been. Grace, who had stayed over at Jacob’s before, had rustled up a new tablecloth and gotten out the nice plates. Nora saw Jacob’s mouth fall open as hi
s eyes roamed around the kitchen, from the golden turkey to the clean silverware. They rested finally on Grace and he gave her a big, grateful smile.
“This is incredible,” he said. “I can’t thank you two enough.”
The tall blonde girl standing next to Jacob, however, was not so grateful. She wrinkled her nose as if she had smelled something bad and gave a disdainful look around the kitchen. “That’s not how Aunt Viola usually sets the table,” she said. “Honestly, Grace, what were you thinking?”
The tall blonde, Nora noticed, was made up just a tad too much for someone attending a family function. Diamonds glittered at her ears and her burgundy dress was tight in all the right places. She stood in stark contrast next to Grace, who wore jeans and a blouse speckled with various remnants of the cleanup. Nora remembered Jacob talking about his mother’s best friend and the best friend’s daughter, Ramona. One glance at her and Nora knew that Ramona wanted to be much more than just a family friend. Nora had bristled almost immediately at this stranger who’d dared talk down to her daughter. Grace, however, gave an airy laugh and said, “Come on, Ramona, it’s called Thanksgiving, not Critiques-giving.”
“Well, Aunt Viola isn’t going to like it,” Ramona said. “But of course, it was sweet of you.” She said the word sweet as though it were poison.
Jacob, looking caught in the middle, cleared his throat. “This is really nice of you, guys. We would all have pitched in but—”
“It’s alright,” Nora said smiling.
Jacob looked miserable. “You’ve all been so nice. Harvey smoothed everything over with the cops and you guys saved Thanksgiving dinner. This is such a mess. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what you must think of us—”
“Come now.” Nora rubbed the back of her neck, feeling embarrassed for the boy. “Jacob, there’s no need to apologize. These things happen.”
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